Walk Wednesdays

Many of you often wonder what it is I do all day long on the ship.  Mostly my life doesn’t look a whole lot different than it would at home in the States.  Lots of diaper changing, feeding, playing and reading.  However, living on a ship on the coast of Africa does present some differences as well.  Life here is fairly scheduled and each day brings a variety of different activities.  Monday we have business meeting in the morning. Tuesday is Treat Tuesday and Dance Class (a favorite day for Adalynn). Thursday is Bible Study. Friday is another school day.  I enjoy having routine and each day has it’s perks but one of my favorite days on the ship is Wednesday.  Not because it’s laundry day (though it is) but because it’s Walk Wednesday!

Adalynn goes to school at 9am and then Cora and I go home to get ready for our adventures in town.  I give her one last feed and tuck her away in her (new) Boba wrap (She got too big for the Moby) and we meet some of the other moms for Walk Wednesday (usually Gretchen and Ali).   The goal is to have Cora take her morning nap while we are out strolling.  Somehow the heat, smells and noises lull her right to sleep.  Sometimes we have an agenda on our walks: the grocery store, the market, etc. and sometimes we just walk.  It’s a chance to get off the ship and breathe fresh air (it’s not so fresh) take in the city.  We scan out of the ship (they keep track of all our comings and goings for security reasons) and walk out of the port.  And when I say “walk out of the port” what I really mean is make our way through the maze of semis with drivers sleeping in hammocks underneath waiting for the next shipment, people arguing with security to get into the port even though their papers are not valid, security guards kissing our babies (on the cheek usually), stray dogs wandering about and trash covering the street.

The new Boba!

 

We exit the port into the hustle and bustle of Conakry life.  Just outside the port is a round-a-bout that is always jammed with cars, semis and taxis vying for position and honking for no real reason, it seems.  No pedestrian right of way here.  We hold our hand out to signal that we will cross and they slow down just enough to let us hurry to the other side.  After passing through the bus stop/road side market area on the corner we are finally to the road that will take us to the grocery store, market or wherever we might decide to go for the day.  We pass through stands with people selling anything from oranges to shoes to VHS cassettes.  Every 100 yards or so Ali and I are asked if our babies are twins (funny as they are 4 months apart in age, Zoe is half Indian and, frankly,  they look nothing alike).  It never fails, though.  We can’t wait until we go walking with Becca and her baby Haliey who is half African.  We decided we will just tell people they are triplets so we can see their reactionJ. 

With Ali and Zoe a couple months ago

We make our way through the broken streets avoiding the uncovered manholes, sewage and trash and breathing in the smoggy, pungent air.  It has become our home and we find ourselves in normal conversation as we navigate our now familiar streets.  It feels strange that it doesn’t feel strange anymore.  Often we make it to the local market.  This is an experience that words can hardly do justice to.  There are hundreds of outdoor stalls in a couple city block area of space selling everything and anything you would ever want (including things like dried fish heads, if you are interested).  They now know that Mersay Sheeps is close by and so there are men who stand at the perimeter of the market ready to help you find whatever you need.  Nice, yes, however it is quite annoying to have them follow you and try to get you to buy a baby walker or power cord, when you just want a mango and you know right where they are.  This week Ali wanted a trashcan and before we knew it she was surrounded by 11 men all carrying varying styles and colors of trashcans for her to purchase.  I stood back and laughed as I watched her bargain and walk away in victory with what she wanted for only 20,000 Guinea Francs (just under $3).  Really wish I had a picture of that!

We often talk about wishing we had a hidden camera on our heads so we could capture moments like this or of the man with the down hood on (without a coat) in the middle of 90 degree Conakry.  But not only these funny moments but also to capture the women who always sits at the entrance to the grocery store nursing her albino baby looking for hand outs or the beggar on the street in front of the internet store that has shriveled legs and cannot walk.  I can’t capture these moments on film but I have captured them in my heart and they remind me why we are here.  They cause a tension in my heart that pulls it nearly to breaking about how we can love and help these that are so broken.  I want answers. I want to be able to help them all and make them well.  Sometimes it leaves me feeling helpless and hopeless but then I remember that Jesus is help and Jesus is hope and my job is to be Jesus to them.  So I look forward to Wednesdays when I can see these people.  I can’t fix all their problems and it breaks my heart.   But each week I can greet them, smile at them and pray for them and trust that Jesus will meet them through those things.

I look forward to these walks as a chance to remember the community in which we serve and also to hang out with my mommy friends. I am thankful for the beautiful people we see and for the abundant blessings I have been given.  I am thankful that Cora still likes riding in her wrap so that I can get out.  I am thankful too for my new friends who share their life with me. The ups and the downs of ship life and mommy life.  I thank the Lord for meeting the need He created me to have for fellowship and camaraderie.  I am thankful for Conakry and it’s colorful diversity and hilarious moments.  I am thankful for this chance to live here and for our children to experience life in Africa.  I am thankful for Wednesdays.